


Please Don't Say You Love Me ('Cause I Might Not Say It Back)

by lilsmartass



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Slash, author abuses tropes, feeeeeeeeels, proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-25
Updated: 2013-08-05
Packaged: 2017-12-16 03:37:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/857329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilsmartass/pseuds/lilsmartass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: An encounter with Amora the Enchantress leaves Tony with no memory of Steve and believing that Pepper is still his girlfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ramsay_baggins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ramsay_baggins/gifts).



> Rating: PG-13
> 
> Disclaimer: Not mine unfortunately, though considering what I put them through, probably for the best. Also, a shout out to Supernatural, from which I gratuitously borrowed a massive plot device. The Supernatural fans amongst you will spot it, anyone else, don’t worry, it’s not important, I just felt I should acknowledge my lack of originality.
> 
> Warning/Spoilers: ANGST, amnesia and a scene which one of the characters considers infidelity (it’s NOT, but the whole thing is messed up and complicated), Tony feels.
> 
> Genre: angst, hurt/comfort, gen, slash, romance.
> 
> Beta: Whisp
> 
> A/N: This is not part of the First Impressions Universe, I just wrote it to give me a break from all the angst in that universe (yes, writing new Tony angst is probably not the best cure but whatever).
> 
> Title is owed to Gabrielle Aplin’s song of the same name.
> 
> Dedicated to ramsay_baggins, congratulations on your graduation hun!

**Please Don’t Say You Love Me (‘Cause I Might Not Say It Back)**

**1**

Steve laughs as Pepper finishes the story she’s telling. It doesn’t fit into the too-nice-for-his-own-good image that Tony likes to accuse him of, but Steve knows he’s far from perfect. For some of the shit Hammer has pulled, he’d love nothing more than to see the man behind bars. In lieu of that, he’s happy to hear Pepper’s tales of corporate one up-manship.

Not even aware that he’s doing it, he presses closer to Tony’s side, and the brunette flashes him a wicked smirk, taking his hand under the table. Looking at Tony’s face gives him a pang; he’s bruised and battered from the week-long battle they’ve just finished. He doesn’t share Tony’s deep seated hatred for magic, truth be told he thinks it’s amazing, but he has to admit Earth-grown supervillains aren’t as difficult as the Asgardian variety. And this time they’d been without Thor, which had made defeating Amora lengthy, time consuming, and dangerous.

Not for the first time, Steve feels a bolt of guilt for his own healing abilities. The scrapes and bruises and even broken ankle he’d received are all but healed, while Tony still looks like a prize fighter, nose purple and swollen, held by tape, lip split, and a pair of black eyes that makes him look like a panda.

Seeing him looking, Tony brings a self-conscious hand to his face. The smile he’s wearing stays in place with the ease of long practice. “What? Is it that awful?”

Steve forces a laugh. “You’re so vain,” he teases, bending his head to brush a brief kiss of reassurance across Tony’s lips.

Tony’s mouth follows him as he pulls away, but he jerks back into his own space on the plastic bench seat when the roll Rhodey flips at him hits him in the ear. “If you’re going to do that, get a room. It’s gross.”

Tony favours Rhodey with a mock smile, eyes very obviously following to where he has an arm curled easily over Pepper’s shoulders. “I let you violate the bro code and date my ex. I can do whatever I want and you have to like it.” He turns back to Steve, “Pucker up, sweetheart.”

Steve gives the pair on the other side of the table a half pleading look, and Rhodey gives him a bright smile and a shrug. “Sorry, Captain. He’s right.” His arm tightens around Pepper, “You’ll have to kiss him again.”

“Hey,” Tony breaks the ridiculous kissy face he had assumed. “There is no _have to_. Steve wants to kiss me, don’t you, Steve?”

“Generally? Yes,” Steve agrees placatingly. “With an audience? Not so much.”

“You’ll never know unless you try. Plus, if you like it, we can tick exhibitionism off the bucket list.”

“ _Tony_!” Steve hates his pale skin as he feels a luminous blush sweep over his cheeks and neck.

“Oh, don’t tease him, Tony,” Pepper laughs, reaching out while the men are distracted to snag the last slice of pizza from the plate in front of them.

Tony gives a long suffering sigh. “I suppose I can wait until we get home.”

“I’m sure you can,” Rhodey says, turning his arm to glance at his watch. “We’ve got to head anyway. I’ve got training with some recruits in the morning, and don’t you have a flight to catch?”

Pepper groans, but takes his hand as he offers it and slides from the booth. “You’re right, Jim.” She takes her coat from Steve with a smile. “Take it easy you two. You need a break.”

“Let’s just hope the villains agree with you,” Steve says dryly and colours again at the knowing wink Rhodey shoots Tony.

He watches them leave, Rhodey’s arm around Pepper’s waist, and then they’re alone. Tony is pressed up against his side, non-stop about nothing in particular.

He’s been acting weird ever since Amora vanished in a puff of golden smoke after muttering about next time. Her attempt to shrink his suit with him still inside had failed, even if he is a little worse for wear, but Steve wonders if perhaps the SHIELD scan missed something, if maybe there is a concussion. It’s been a long time since Tony’s been as insecure as he seems to be now.

“Anyway,” Tony says, winding down from his rant at last. “Want to get out of here?”

Fed and rested and having already showered and changed after the debriefing, Steve wants nothing more than to fall into his bed and sleep for a week. “Yeah,” he agrees with a yawn and a smile and allows Tony to pull him to his feet.

Outside, it’s crisp and cold, but clear and the sky is full of stars. “Let’s walk down here,” Tony says brightly, pulling Steve onto a secluded side street.

Steve knows the detour isn’t purely by chance, Tony isn’t as good an actor as he thinks, but he’s not tired enough to ruin the night with a stupid argument. It’s rare that all four of them can make it out, and Steve knows that Tony values being able to see Rhodey and Pepper without feeling like he’s choosing between them and Steve. He follows.

“Steve,” Tony starts, voice oddly breathless, as he stops in the middle of the street. “I have- I wanted- Wait,” he gives a nervous laugh. “There’re always things I want to say and I practised this and Pepper read it. She said it was good, just give me a minute.”

Steve steps a half step closer, sheltering Tony between himself and the wall. “Are you okay?” he asks intensely.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s nothing like that. It’s just…we’ve been going out for a long time, right?”

Steve nods warily, pulling back as in response to Tony’s hiss when he unthinkingly tightens his fingers where they’re gripped on the genius’ biceps.

“And…and I lost Pepper because I wasn’t willing to take a risk on her, you know?”

Steve nods again.

“But we fight together, and yesterday when you took that blow and fell, I thought- I thought-” Tony shakes his head and cuts himself off. “So, I thought, you never know what’s going to happen and if you want something you should just take it and never mind waiting.”

“Tony, what are you trying to say?” Steve asks, forcing his voice to remain steady, even though his head is spinning from the flood of words.

“I’m doing this all wrong,” Tony says, but his woeful tone is belied by the flash of his teeth, startling white in the dark, as he gives Steve a brilliant smile. He fumbles inside his jacket with his good arm for a second and then pulls out something that Steve barely catches a glimpse of in the dim light. Then Tony’s dropping deliberately to one knee, his movement less smooth than usual due to his injuries. “I’m asking if you, Steve Rogers, would do me the honour of being my husband.” His voice barely wavers at all.

Steve feels his breath catch in his throat as he crouches down as well, putting himself at eyelevel with Tony. Shimmering brilliantly in the soft glow of the Arc reactor is a beautiful silver ring in a small black box. He picks it up, turning it for a second, just looking.

“It’s adamantium,” Tony babbles, “Unbreakable. I thought that would be…yeah, so I made it. If you don’t like it we can get something else though, anything you want. And aren’t you supposed to say yes before you take the ring?”

“Yes,” Steve whispers.

“Yes, you’re supposed to say yes, or yes you’ll marry me?” The flippancy doesn’t quite cover the very real insecurity, and Steve feels the old familiar urge to go back in time and punch everyone who had ever made Tony feel that way.

“Yes, I’ll marry you. Of course. I mean, I would be honoured. And I love the ring; I don’t want anything else,” Steve answers, stumbling over his words.

Tony lets out an audible sigh of relief. “Thank god,” and in response to the soft look Steve gives him, he says, “Does that mean we can get up now? My knee is killing me.”

Steve knows he’s mostly joking but feels a surge of guilt anyway. He stands, using his own strength to bring Tony with him. He’s still holding the ring, the broad silvery circle sitting heavily in his palm. “Do you…do you want to put it on?” he asks shyly.

Tony’s lips twitch into a genuine smile, and he plucks the ring from Steve’s hand. “Will you marry me?” he asks again, even as he slides it over Steve’s thick knuckle.

“Yes,” Steve breathes, barely waiting for him to finish before he’s pulling Tony in to kiss him deeply.

Tony moans and arches back against the wall, licking deep and filthy into his mouth. Steve backs him further into the wall, putting what has to be painful pressure against the marks he knows are on the billionaire’s back, but Tony only pulls him closer.

They break apart at the sound of a muffled choked noise, like someone stifling a sob.

“Hello?” Steve calls, eyes scanning the surrounding area, “Hello? Is someone there?”

There’s another swallowed sob and a scraping sound, but no answer. Tony pushes past him, taking the lead as he heads further down the street, to where there is a store doorway hidden in shadow. As they draw closer, they see the figure of a young woman hunched in the doorway and crying.

“Miss?” Steve says uncertainly. “Are you all right? Can we help you?”

She tilts her head slightly to look at them, and Steve forces down his shock as he sees that she’s almost as bruised as Tony. Fresh blood is dripping from her split lip and a cut evidently hidden under her masses of curly hair. “Don’t- don’t hurt me,” she gasps out, pressing herself further back.

Steve freezes where he stands. Sometimes it’s hard for him to remember that he looks different now, that he is tall and physically imposing, and that this woman, who has evidently been attacked, has every right to be afraid of him.

Slowly, with a small hiss – perhaps he wasn’t joking about his knee after all – Tony crouches in front of her. “We’re not going to hurt you,” he promises gently, more gently than most people even realise Tony Stark can speak. “We’re Avengers. Let us call someone for you, okay? I think you might need a hospital.”

“Av- avengers?” the woman asks tremulously.

Tony nods, already fishing in his pocket for his cell phone. “That’s right. Blond and beautiful up there is Captain America, and I’m Iron Man.”

It happens so fast, Steve barely sees her move. “Oh, I know.”

Tony looks up, surprise marring his features, but she’s already on him, pushing him down easily where he’s off balance on his haunches. Steve gives a wordless cry, but he can’t throw himself into the fray and risk hurting Tony worse. Before he can do anything, she has her fingers pressed tightly to Tony’s face. “Forget,” she hisses, and she looks up with a bright smirk to meet Steve’s eyes. She’s bruise free now, face undeniably beautiful. A bolt of horror rocks through him as he recognises her.

“Amora!” he gasps, but by the time he reaches for her she is already gone. All that is left is Tony, cold, unconscious, and convulsing under his hands.

*

Steve’s fingers twitch, and he forces himself to remain still, to hold his watchful vigil at the side of Tony’s bed – again – without interrupting the telepath. “Well?” he demands, unable to help himself, unable even to curb the sharp tone when Professor Xavier looks up.

The Professor’s eyes are shadowed with exhaustion. He is an old man to have been rushed out of bed at this hour, even accounting for the fact that Nightcrawler had teleported him here but he must still be tired. Steve hardly notices, and truthfully, he wouldn’t care even if he had. Only when the Professor had sunk deep into his mind, had Tony’s body stopped shuddering with seizures.

“He will be fine, Captain,” Xavier says in his usual soft tone. “However,” uncharacteristically, the older man hesitates.

Steve’s hands tighten into fists and the sheet he’s clasping tears. “However, what?” he pushes, panic and desperation in the tone.

“The spell Amora cast,” Xavier shakes his head, “It was powerful, more powerful than my mere skills. The mind is…the mind is like a map, and what I felt was a shadow falling over it, like a rolling wave.”

“But he’ll be fine? You _said_. You said he’d be fine.”

Professor Xavier is used to dealing with panicking teenagers and doesn’t appear troubled by Steve’s outburst. “I was unable to stop the shadow. I have erected a wall; a shield within Mr Stark’s mind that will prevent anything further from being cast into darkness.”

Steve nods, unclenching his hands with great effort. His thumb brushes against the ring that Tony had given him not two hours before.

“He will sleep now, but when he wakes…he should be…”

“She said forget,” Steve interrupts the Professor’s fatigued pause, and Xavier’s eyes shoot open, “the word she said when she touched him was forget.”

“My suspicion is that everything already touched by the shadow will be forgotten then, but it is merely shadowed, not obliterated. When Mr Odinson returns, he may be able to provide you with a cure.”

“What-” Steve clears his throat, “Where did the shadow start?”

“At the front of his mind,” Xavier hurries to reassure. “He will still be Tony Stark, but you may find that the last hours or days are simply…gone.”

Again, Steve thumbs the ring nestled snug and safe and warm and right on his finger. He swallows back the tears. “Right.”

Xavier wheels closer and gives Steve a comforting pat on the arm. Steve knows he would never dip into Steve’s thoughts without his express permission, but doubtless he can feel something.

“Sorry,” Steve mutters, ashamed.

“Not at all,” Xavier soothes. “But, Captain,” again he hesitates, waiting until Steve wrenches his eyes off the still – too still, Tony is never still – form in the too big bed, “No matter how hard it may be for you, no matter how much you may want him to remember, you cannot give Mr Stark any missing details.”

Steve goes from flushed red to white in an instant. “Why?”

“I have been unable to stop the spell. I merely forestalled it. If Mr Stark were to know he was missing details of his life, if he were to attempt to take down the block I have placed in his mind…The smallest crack in the wall would be enough for the shadow to continue Amora’s work. Until you can rely on help from Asgard, it must stay as I have placed it.”

Steve licks his lips, eyes darting from Xavier’s face, to Tony’s, peaceful as it rarely is, even in repose, and then to the ring shining on his finger. Tony had made it himself; he will recognise it on Steve’s finger. He will recognise and ask how Steve came to have it if he has no memory of asking. Steve pulls it off, slipping it into his wallet before he can meet Xavier’s eyes once more. “Right,” he says voice dull. “I’ll tell the others.”

Xavier nods, giving him a kind smile. He doesn’t reiterate his point; they both know that it might hurt Steve unspeakably, but that he’d prefer that to risking Tony.

Steve doesn’t follow him out. Instead he settles back into his chair and takes Tony’s hand between his own. Tony’s hand shows all the signs of the work he does; there’s the faintest trace of grease embedded in the whorls of his palm and thumb, calluses where he holds his tools and a mostly-healed shiny pink burn on his pinkie. Tony’s hand feels delicate in Steve’s grip, like he could crush it without thought. He sits another moment, head bowed as he finally relaxes, listening to the steady beat of the heart monitor. Tony is fine. He’s going to be fine. So what about a few lost hours? Even these hours. It just means Steve will be able to have the happiest moment of his life twice.

He takes a deep breath and squeezes Tony’s hand gently in mute reassurance and promise. Then he stands and goes to brief the rest of the Avengers waiting anxiously outside.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: An encounter with Amora the Enchantress leaves Tony with no memory of Steve and believing that Pepper is still his girlfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: PG-13
> 
> Disclaimer: Not mine unfortunately, though considering what I put them through, probably for the best. Also, a shout out to Supernatural, from which I gratuitously borrowed a massive plot device. The Supernatural fans amongst you will spot it, anyone else, don’t worry, it’s not important, I just felt I should acknowledge my lack of originality.
> 
> Warning/Spoilers: ANGST, amnesia and a scene which one of the characters considers infidelity (it’s NOT, but the whole thing is messed up and complicated), Tony feels.
> 
> Genre: angst, hurt/comfort, gen, slash, romance.
> 
> Beta: Whisp
> 
> A/N: This is not part of the First Impressions Universe, I just wrote it to give me a break from all the angst in that universe (yes, writing new Tony angst is probably not the best cure but whatever).
> 
> Title is owed to Gabrielle Aplin’s song of the same name.
> 
> Dedicated to ramsay_baggins, congratulations on your graduation, hun!

**Please Don’t Say You Love Me (‘Cause I Might Not Say It Back)**

 

 

Tony’s eyes flicker as he wakes slowly. “Huh,” he says, mostly to himself as he processes the disinfectant scent of the hospital, “Not dead.”

There’s a snort from beside him, and he rolls his head to the side, cracking his eyes slightly to see a distinctly red-eyed, blond man sitting by the end of the bed. He has to open his eyes fully before he can recognise the other man; he looks different out of uniform.

“So,” he grates out, throat feeling raw and dry. “This is what I have to do to get Captain America to sit weeping by my bedside.”

Captain America snorts again, and wipes the back of his hand unashamedly across his eyes. “Tony.”

He’s striving for Pepper’s tolerant exasperation. The voice she wears when she knows something shouldn’t be funny, but Tony’s forcing her to laugh anyway. It’s his favourite tone in Pepper’s voice; the tone that reminds him she’s not going anywhere, regardless of how exasperating he is. Captain America hasn’t quite managed it. His voice is too soft, too reverent. Instinctively, Tony cringes away from the unwelcomed intimacy. “Yeah, in the flesh. It was nice of you to check up on me. Where’s Pepper? She’s okay, right? What happened with the battle?”

Captain America freezes in the act of reaching for the cup of water by Tony’s bed, but he doesn’t allow it to faze him. A lot of people are put off by Tony’s rapid style of talking, but it isn’t his fault that his brain works faster than other people’s.

After a moment, Captain America speaks again. “Pepper’s…fine. She’s outside. Would you like to see her?” Captain America’s voice now is the determined, absolute calm of a person on the verge of panic.

“I…Yes.” Tony has a lot of things he’d like to say, questions he needs to ask, but he’d far rather ask Pepper than this virtual stranger.

Captain America nods, and when he turns back around he has a smile pasted onto his face and the paper cup of water in his hands. He solicitously helps Tony sit up, and Tony doesn’t _mind_ – well, all right, yes, he does, but he can’t deny he needs the help – but his skin crawls under the too gentle touch, like Tony is something _precious_ , like a few short hours ago Captain America hadn’t told him he was nothing outside of the armour. “I’ll…uh…I’ll go and get Pepper,” Captain America says.

Tony raises an eyebrow, he had been sure Cap was the type who would call Pepper Ms Potts forever and a day.

“The…the other Avengers are outside, too. Everyone was worried about you. I’ll let them know you’re okay?”

The hesitant, nervous question makes Tony feel like a jerk, even though, for once, he hasn’t said anything. Loki’s magical glowstick of destiny had made all of their tempers run high. He certainly hadn’t meant what he’d said to Cap. There’s no reason to make the man look like he’s viciously beat his puppy to death in front of him just because he’s trying to be nice. “Yeah. Yeah, sure.” He waves a hand airily and then adds, “They’re all okay too, right? No one else got hurt?”

That raises a smile that Tony can’t parse, like he isn’t in on the joke that spawned it. “No, Tony. Just you. You saved everyone.”

“Good. Now, chop chop, Captain. As good looking as you are, I would prefer to see my girlfriend.”

Captain America stiffens as if a current of electricity has just passed through him. “G- Girlfriend?” His voice squeaks slightly.

Tony smirks at him, amused at his obvious discomfort. “What? Were you crushing on Pep, Captain? I’m sorry, but she’s taken.”

It takes a moment more of horrified staring, but Cap recovers himself. Licking his lips and lowering his gaze, he says, “Right. Sorry. My apologies, Mr Stark.”

Tony finds that he misses Cap’s familiar use of his name. “No problem. Pepper’s hot. It happens.”

“I’ll just,” he motions at the door and, there is no other word for it, flees.

Tony picks at the blankets, wondering what he did wrong. It only takes a moment before Pepper sweeps into the room. She crosses straight to the bed and hugs him tightly, but dodges his attempt to go in for a kiss. “You’ve been in a coma for two days, Tony. You have morning breath.”

Tony pulls back sharply, a flush crawling up his cheeks. She pats him and settles, not in Cap’s vacated seat, but on the side of the bed and doesn’t argue when he takes her hand, holding it close. “So, it’s…Wednesday now?”

“It’s…” Pepper hesitates and looks away, biting her lip. “You know I love you?”

“Y-yeah.” Tony can’t keep the faint tremor from his voice and hastily rushes on. “I know what I did was dangerous, Pepper, and I know you hate it when I’m self-destructive, but I _had_ to. It was the only way. I couldn’t just let a nuke go off over Manhattan, and I couldn’t…I couldn’t see another way to stop Loki’s little friends. I was just…”

She silences him by pushing a finger to his lips. “No. I just…I need to know that you know I love you. And that you trust me.”

Tony looks at her. Despite being in a coma for days, he still feels painfully tired and weak. He knows all the vulnerability he works so hard to hide is shining in his eyes, but he doesn’t look away. It’s all he has to offer her. “Of course I trust you. I gave you SI. I let you change my Arc reactor.”

She nods, and he watches her steel herself for what she is about to tell him. “You weren’t injured fighting Loki. A different mind controlling Asgardian has given you amnesia.”

Tony blinks. “A different…How many are there?”

Pepper gives a humour free, rueful laugh, “More than you would think.”

“Right. So…amnesia.” He’s beginning to have a very bad feeling about this. “Pepper…What day is it?”

She grimaces. “I can’t tell you.” She holds up a hand when he starts to protest, and says instead in a low, pleading voice. “Tony, I need you trust me, okay? The spell you’re under, we couldn’t stop it. Charles Xavier-”

“The mutant?”

Pepper blinks as though she hadn’t expected the interruption, but continues anyway, “Yes. He put up a block in your mind, so you won’t lose any more memories, but if you try and remember…if you push down the block trying to get at what’s behind it…”

Tony swallows. He can’t think of anything worse than losing his mind. It’s the one thing he’s always prided himself on, and the one thing no one could ever take. He might be a poor excuse for a human being, but at least he’s a _genius_ poor excuse for a human being. “I won’t,” he promises softly.

Pepper sighs with relief and tightens her grip on his fingers. “Thank you.”

Tony watches her for a second. She looks tired and sad. He hates that look on her face. He wishes he had something to say to comfort her.

Pepper takes a moment to compose herself and looks back at him. “Thor is back on Asgard, but SHIELD and Jane Foster – his…girlfriend I think, it’s hard to tell with Thor – are trying to find a way to contact him. Charles is sure someone on Asgard will have a solution. He said his impression from inside your mind was that this was a crude shadow, nothing more. Thor will be able to help.”

“Okay,” Tony agrees, swallowing down his instinctive inclination to argue about more people messing about in his mind. Anything has to be better than missing half of himself. “So what now?”

“Steve is going to take you to one of your other properties and look after you until we find a way to fix this.”

“Steve?”

There’s another silence, longer and filled with all sorts of things that Tony tries to force himself not to think about; Pepper’s dire warning about Xavier’s block was far too fresh. “Steve Rogers. Captain America?”

“Yes, I know who Steve Rogers is, thank you,” he gripes. Then huffs a sigh. “I don’t want Captain America to babysit me. He’s no fun. You come with me.”

“Tony…”

“No, come on. You can do virtually anything SI needs by phone and internet. You can video conference, and I won’t even bother you. We’ll go to Italy. It’ll be amazing. It’s been ages since I took you away.”

She raises an eyebrow at him. “How do you know?”

He gives her a flash of the abashed smile he knows she finds irresistible. “I know me. Come on, Pep. It’ll be romantic. Doesn’t Captain Courageous have to be here in case the Avengers are needed anyway?”

“The Fantastic Four have agreed to stay in this dimension while you’re out of commission. Without Iron Man and Thor, the Avengers need back up.”

“All the more reason for Cap to be able to do his duty to the team and not get saddled with me.”

“He doesn’t think of it as being saddled with you, Tony. He wants to help. You’re teammates now.”

“He doesn’t even _like_ me, Pep.”

For an instant there’s a look on her face, like she doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Maybe you should give him a chance.”

He forces his exhausted body to sit up far enough to wrap an arm around her waist, and _ow_ , whatever bastard Asgardian did this to him has also made a mess of his back by the feel of it. He pulls her to him. “Come on, Pep,” he wheedles, giving her his best puppy dog eyes. “Pleeeeeeeease. I won’t spend all day in the work shop. We’ll go to all the museums and art galleries that you want.”  

“I can’t, Tony. I really am very busy. I’m meant to be Japan.”

He keeps the pitiful gaze fixed on her, and she makes an irate sound before standing and smoothing her skirt down. “Fine. Fine, we’ll go. But you’ll have to behave yourself.”

Tony nods eagerly. “I promise.”

* 

Steve is white and standing just a little too stiffly, and a little too close to Natasha when Pepper finally leaves Tony’s room. They just look at each other for a moment. “I’m sorry, Steve,” Pepper says when she finds her voice.

Steve shakes his head, still not quite managing words. “It’s fine,” he says hoarsely. “It’s not your fault. Just,” his face takes a desperate cast, “look after him?”

Pepper watches Natasha’s little hand tighten around Steve’s wrist in silent support, and her heart clenches with pity. She strives not to show it, knowing the proud soldier won’t appreciate it, and nods instead. “Of course I will.”

That Steve simply accepts her statement with a nod of his head warms her. Steve trusts Tony to no one.

“Did you manage to find out what his last memory is?” Natasha asks calmly, breaking the moment.

Pepper fights down another swell of pity. She can read the concern lurking deep in Natasha’s eyes. “The wormhole Loki’s army came through. He remembers flying the nuke through it, and nothing else.”

Steve pales further. “That was…that was _years_ ago.” Almost as an afterthought he adds in a tiny voice, “Tony hated me back then.”

“He never hated you, Steve. He just…”

“I know all about Howard’s constant comparing of Tony to me,” Steve says tightly.

Of course he does. Pepper loves Tony dearly, she always has, but she has never seen him devoted to anyone the way he is to Steve. Of course he had told Steve the deepest and darkest of his secrets. “Don’t tell him that,” she advises gently. “I know it’s hard, Steve. I can’t even imagine how I’d feel if it were _me_ he didn’t remember, but he doesn’t know you, and it takes Tony time to trust. He won’t know how to deal with the information that you know something he’s only ever told two people.”

Steve looks rocked to the core, ravaged from the inside out, and then, like a portcullis slamming down, to cut him off from all the pain, Captain America crashes over Steve’s unhappily pinched features. “He’s nothing but a target like this. I’ll take him somewhere and-”

“Steve,” there is no gentle way to do it, so Pepper simply speaks. “Steve, he doesn’t want you to go with him. I already suggested that. He wants…me.”

The shattered remnants of Steve lurk brokenly in Captain America’s baby blue eyes, a wounded animal masked by reason and duty and bull-headed courage, but he nods. “Of course. If you’re willing, Ms Potts?”

It’s been more than eighteen months since he’s called her that. “I…I’d do anything for Tony, you know that. But he’s got this pegged as some sort of romantic getaway and,” a sharp, hysterical giggle escapes her, “I _can’t_.”

Steve’s face shutters even more. “He’s always liked Bruce,” he offers tiredly.

Several heads swivel in Bruce’s direction, and the scientist looks uncertainly back at them. It’s not a look Pepper sees on his face often. Bruce is an expert at staying – or at least at seeming – calm, even in the worst of circumstances. “I didn’t meet Tony until that first invasion. I’m not sure I can fake that level of unfamiliarity.”

Steve hisses a sigh. It’s true, Bruce and Tony are best friends; Tony’s proclaimed science bro knows him just as well as Steve or Pepper. “It has to be you,” Steve says to her, voice low. “I don’t mind.”

She can see what it costs him to say that, to trust Tony to someone else. “Of course, Captain,” she promises, trying to put the weight of her conviction behind her words. She would protect Tony at all costs. Someone needs to be with him, to distract him, because they cannot risk his curiosity overcoming him and him hurting himself searching for answers.

Steve turns his gaze away from all of them, as if it could hide the pain they all know he’s feeling. “I’ll…I’ll go to the tower and get some of his things.”

She nods. She knows he needs an escape and needs to feel useful. “Thank you.” She doesn’t remind him to bring only things Tony has had for years.

Tactfully, the Avengers don’t watch him leave, shoulders stooped with the weight of every one of his years.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: An encounter with Amora the Enchantress leaves Tony with no memory of Steve and believing that Pepper is still his girlfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: PG-13  
> Disclaimer: Not mine unfortunately, though considering what I put them through, probably for the best. Also, a shout out to Supernatural, from which I gratuitously borrowed a massive plot device. The Supernatural fans amongst you will spot it, anyone else, don’t worry, it’s not important, I just felt I should acknowledge my lack of originality.   
> Warning/Spoilers: ANGST, amnesia and a scene which one of the characters considers infidelity (it’s NOT, but the whole thing is messed up and complicated), Tony feels.  
> Genre: angst, hurt/comfort, gen, slash, romance.  
> Beta: Whisp  
> A/N: This is not part of the First Impressions Universe, I just wrote it to give me a break from all the angst in that universe (yes, writing new Tony angst is probably not the best cure but whatever).  
> Title is owed to Gabrielle Aplin’s song of the same name.  
> Dedicated to ramsay_baggins, congratulations on your graduation, hun!

**Please Don’t Say You Love Me (‘Cause I Might Not Say It Back)**

 

Pepper is acting weird. Tony hates it when Pepper acts outside of predicted parameters. She’s his constant. His rock. Pepper acting weird can only mean bad things. He’s trying to stick to her instruction, her plea, but the more she pulls back from him, acting not quite…right, the more tightly wound and desperately curious he becomes.

He’s been spending days tinkering in his workshop, not inventing, not really, just playing. It annoys him deeply that JARVIS’ quick responses to some of his brainstorming questions mean that he’s done all of this before, but he doesn’t remember it. At least it keeps his brain and fingers busy.

Pepper visits him often, bringing him food and coffee, and not allowing him to work himself into an engineering collapse, but she is not willing to distract him with anything else, despite the fact that they’re in Italy. Maybe he should have taken her to Paris instead, he muses ruefully.

He snaps one day when she deflects his kiss for the third time, turning her head for it to land chastely on her cheek. She hasn’t allowed him to give her anything but the most cursory of touches for days, and while Tony _isn’t_ actually a sex maniac, with people he trusts he likes to be touched and petted. He doesn’t like to think about what that says about him, so he ignores it. Pepper’s refusal to even hold him cuts him deeply. If he hadn’t known Pepper has _never_ cared about looks, he’d almost wonder if the healing, but still unattractively purple nose he’s sporting, obviously a reminder of whatever did this to him, is putting her off. He hates the pitiful whine that creeps into his voice, but he can’t keep himself from asking, “Did I do something wrong, Pepper? I mean, I don’t remember it, but I wouldn’t, would I? And I swear I didn’t mean it.”

“Tony…”

“No, Pep. I know you. I know _us_ and this isn’t right. I know you can’t tell me what I did, and I understand, but forgive me?” He forces himself to hold her eyes. Tony doesn’t apologise very often, but right now he isn’t even allowed on the internet for fear he’ll come across something which will trigger the wall in his mind to collapse – and didn’t that just tell him all he needed to know about how much time he had lost, another thing not to think about – and he feels alone and adrift. More so without Pepper standing strong and staunch at his side.

“I don’t want to take advantage of you, not when you’re not all there.”

Tony flinches at that. It’s ridiculous. When he looks at her though, he can detect no hint of a lie in her eyes. “Pepper it’s not like I was regressed to my MIT years. I know who you are. I know…I remember…” he grasps for something to say. “I remember the night I realised I loved you. The night on the balcony.”   

That wins him a smirk. “The night you went to get me a drink and never came back?”

“I…okay, yes. But in my defence, I was still fairly recently back from Afghanistan. I panicked.”

She shakes her head at him fondly.

Tony refuses to be distracted for long. He reaches out grabbing her wrist and holding it, but gently. He knows he’s not good enough for her, and he won’t force her to be with him. She doesn’t pull away, merely softens her smirk into a genuine smile, so he tugs her to him, setting his hands on her waist. “JARVIS, some waltz music, please.”

“Of course, sir.”

The soft music starts quickly, and Pepper laughs, allowing him to lead her around the workshop. The pair of them skilfully dodging the debris from half a dozen projects littering the floor, and DUM-E, who’s anxious to get close and see what they are doing. He dips her and then pulls her close, flush against him, barely moving and merely swaying with the music. “Ms Potts, I think you’re getting even more beautiful.”

Pepper blushes and looks away, but it’s not a coy smile, instead it’s a guilty one, and Tony’s sense of wrong increases.

“Please tell me what’s wrong,” he pleads softly, breathing the words into her hair.

She opens her mouth, and then looks away again, letting out a soft, pained noise. “I…I can’t. Your memories…”

Tony hisses. “We’re…we’re all right though? I didn’t do something awful and make you break up with me? I’m not being the handsy, clingy ex right now?” He’s joking. Mostly.

“Tony,” she says again.

He sighs and lets his hands drop. “You can’t tell me. I know.”

He knows she can hear the tears he’s barely restraining when she steps up close and puts a hand on his shoulder. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need protecting,” he rounds on her. He doesn’t know what’s on his face, but it makes her fall back a step. The guilt surges higher. “I just need you,” he admits softly. “You’re all I have, Pep. You know that.”

There are a thousand unsaid things on her face. “I know,” she says softly after a moment.

This time he can hear the lie in her voice, but he doesn’t press her, too grateful for the fact that she steps back into him and allows him to hold her close.  

*

Living with Tony again is nothing so much as it is weird. She’d moved out of the Avengers tower almost a year ago. She’s still a regular guest, but living in the tower, she was a high profile, unsuperpowered hostage ripe for the picking. In her own penthouse on the far side of the city, it is easier to maintain her anonymity. And though she misses them keenly, she doesn’t miss the regular bouts of chaos that came with unexpected Hulk incidents, gleeful tower wide prank wars, and the havoc five superhero insomniacs were  capable of wreaking just to relieve the boredom in between missions. Not to mention the too frequent PR and press related disasters that she was inevitably roped in to clean up.

This though…This is just strange. This is Tony as he was when he was still growing into his role as Iron Man, before he was certain of his worth to the Avengers as a teammate and a friend. She hasn’t seen this man in years, and it’s disjointing and distressing to see Tony reduced to the insecurity that the Avengers had spent years training out of him.

Not to mention that the whole situation with their respective relationship statuses is just complicated and awkward. She loves Tony, she always has, but she hasn’t loved him like this in a long time. And okay yes, she and Jim are still in the first flush of the pink honeymoon glow, since Tony had only recently been in a good enough place for Jim to speak to him about her. They might not work out, and she’d do anything for Tony, but it doesn’t negate the painful constricting of her heart that tells her she’s doing something wrong when she allows him to lean to close or touch her too possessively. And there are probably special levels of hell for the people who screw about with Captain America’s boyfriend.

There are any number of reasons to stop him from doing it. His memory loss, the injuries he’s still sporting, are all good reasons to deny him. She could even, since she can’t tell him their history, simply break up with him anew. And Tony, the Tony she knows now, will forgive her, thank her even. He’d never hurt either her or Jim like this, and he’d crawl over broken class before he would cheat on Steve. She _knows_ all this, but she also knows this version of him. She knows that this insecurity driven mess will internalise and blame himself and list this as yet another thing he was not good enough for, and she simply can’t be yet another person to make him feel like that. It’s a cruelty that isn’t in her.

The creeping guilt still creeps through her when she wraps him tightly in her arms, and allows the occasional kisses and touches that Tony always did like to indulge in. It gnaws at her when she lets him share her bed at night, even if it’s only for a few hours, because he’s always in the workshop and she makes sure to schedule ludicrously early telephone conferences. It could be worse, and when she creeps off to secluded areas of the sprawling villa to phone Jim, while Tony hides with his robots, music cranked up to wall shaking decibels,  he agrees. He would do anything to keep Tony safe, too.

Too many times, she finds herself having to bite her tongue to keep from saying something, to keep from reminding Tony about some moment of their shared history which now only she remembers. It is difficult even to think that, for Tony, those memories might be gone forever, and that even the reminder of them might damage him incalculably. So, it is with uncharacteristic hesitance that she says softly over dinner one evening, “Steve wants to come and visit.”

He blinks at her, nonplussed. “Why?”

“He’s-” Pepper almost chokes on the words. She has seen the way Steve looks at Tony, like he personally hung the moon. Tony should never have to ask _why_ Steve should wish to visit him when he’s hurting and more scared than he will ever admit to her. She knows the signs. “He’s your team leader. He’s worried about you.”

Tony huffs. “Look, I guess we’ve had more missions than the one I remember but…”

Pepper makes a small aborted noise and he scowls.

“I’m not trying to remember, I promise. I just…that’s _obvious_. I am a genius, Pep.” She doesn’t argue and he continues. “So I get that Rogers thinking he’s my team leader or whatever is not as ridiculous to him as it is to me, but he doesn’t like me and I don’t need him running around after me. This isn’t Avengers business; he doesn’t need to stick his nose in here.”

She crooks a tiny smile. “How do you know he doesn’t like you?”

Tony flickers minutely, but only for a second, then he snorts. “Good one. As if Captain America would ever want anything to do with me.”

Her heart hurts. She can’t even set him straight, can’t risk him straining for a glimpse of the long, slow, and often volatile path he and Steve had taken from apathy at best, to the connection they have now. And he will, Tony could never bear not to know something. That he has followed her instructions so far speaks volumes about how frightened he is of losing even more memories. Still, she will not speak ill of Steve and not imply Tony is completely in the right. He is not the only one being hurt by this. “Still,” she says diplomatically, “I think he’d rather see you for himself.”

“Can’t _you_ speak to him?” he whines.

“Tony, be nice,” Pepper chides, and it is reminiscent of a hundred thousand other times, but it is disjointing too. She hasn’t been called to wrangle Tony in months. That’s Steve’s job nowadays. “It’s a long way for him to come-”

“Yeah, at my expense no doubt!”

She ignores that, knowing money has never mattered at all to Tony. “- and if it’s that important to him to make sure you’re okay, you should at least be polite. Besides, you’re right. The two of you have been through more battles together than I care to think about. It’s natural that he should worry about you.” That should be safe to say at least.

Tony gives a loud, put upon sigh. “Fine. _Fine_. I will host Capsicle if it will make you happy. But I’m going to spend time in my workshop even if he is here. And I reserve the right not to like him.”

“That’s fine,” she agrees, even as she wonders how badly that will hurt Steve. “As long as you let him check you over and aren’t actively rude.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Potts.”

“Civility is not much to ask, Tony,” she rebukes, but can’t – quite – keep the smile from her face.

“It’s boring.”

“Perhaps, but will you trust me if I tell you that Steve has earned it?”

Tony gives her a long, serious look, his earlier levity falling away. “I…Yes. Of course. But,” his face contorts, and he turns away, touching his fingers to his forehead as though to ward off a headache.

“Tony?”

“I’m fine. I’m not remembering. Well, not anymore. I guess Xavier put some other blocks up to dissuade me.” He shakes his head and picks up his earlier train of thought. “But you have to remember that the last thing I remember Rogers saying to me was that I was nothing outside of the armour.”

“He doesn’t think that anymore, Tony. I promise.”

He nods. “Okay. I believe you.” He puts his fork down and stands. “I’m going back downstairs. I think JARVIS and I have made a breakthrough, and I want to get the prototype finished.”

Normally she would chide him about forgoing sleep, but entering Inventing Land has never hurt him before. She trusts JARVIS to keep him from blowing up, or burning down the villa, and this is less awkward than resisting his advances and seeing the hurt in his eyes every time she does. “All right, have fun. Don’t wake me when you come to bed.”

He grins roguishly at her from the doorway. “Who said anything about bed?”

She hums unhappily, but doesn’t insist.

Tony misinterprets her silence and gives her another smile. “Don’t worry, Pep. I won’t torment Rogers too much. I’ll be downstairs most of the time anyway, and he’ll barely notice the difference. It’s not like we’re best friends or anything, is it?”

He’s gone before she can give herself away. Pepper tries to tell herself that it’s for the best.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: An encounter with Amora the Enchantress leaves Tony with no memory of Steve and believing that Pepper is still his girlfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: PG-13  
> Disclaimer: Not mine unfortunately, though considering what I put them through, probably for the best. Also, a shout out to Supernatural, from which I gratuitously borrowed a massive plot device. The Supernatural fans amongst you will spot it, anyone else, don’t worry, it’s not important, I just felt I should acknowledge my lack of originality.   
> Warning/Spoilers: ANGST, amnesia and a scene which one of the characters considers infidelity (it’s NOT, but the whole thing is messed up and complicated), Tony feels.  
> Genre: angst, hurt/comfort, gen, slash, romance.  
> Beta: Whisp  
> A/N: This is not part of the First Impressions Universe, I just wrote it to give me a break from all the angst in that universe (yes, writing new Tony angst is probably not the best cure but whatever).  
> Title is owed to Gabrielle Aplin’s song of the same name.  
> Dedicated to ramsay_baggins, congratulations on your graduation, hun!

**Please Don’t Say You Love Me (‘Cause I Might Not Say It Back)  
**

 

It’s mid-afternoon and the sun is beating mercilessly down when the car pulls up in front of the pleasant looking villa. It’s all Steve can do not to fling himself out of the car before it stops moving. He’s been apart from Tony before, of course. He’s on SHIELD’s payroll, and sometimes he’s sent on missions that don’t require Iron Man. Sometimes Tony is away doing important things for SI. This has _felt_ different. He’s felt further away from Tony than he ever has before, and it’s been like having his very heart ripped out of him with every breath.

Logically, he knows that his visit won’t mean to Tony what it means to him. And why should it? From Tony’s perspective they’ve barely met, but even that thought can’t stop the smile threatening to crack his face in half. He feels that if he can bask in Tony’s presence for just an hour, he’ll feel better. It feels like anything other than this brutal separation will heal some of the wounds on his soul.

Pepper meets him at the door, and he greets her with a chaste kiss to the cheek. “How is he?”

She smiles and leads him through the house to the kitchen, fixing him a tall drink in a glass without being asked. Steve fidgets from foot to foot, not sitting down. He wants to see Tony. She smiles softly at him again. “You should sit. I think we should talk first.”

She’s right of course, and Steve doesn’t want to take the risk of hurting Tony inadvertently. He settles on one of the high stools and mutters his thanks as she hands him the drink and a bagel. “Is he...?” He can hardly bear to ask.

“He’s…” Pepper sighs and shakes her head. “He hasn’t even tried to get through Charles’ wall.”

Steve breathes a sigh of pure relief. “Thank God!”

“Yes. But it means he is still in the same place as he was when you last saw him at the hospital. Until waking up there, his last memory is the portal.” 

“I know. I don’t-”

“Steve.” It isn’t often that Pepper interrupts him, and he falls silent instantly. “He still…he still thinks he’s with me. I haven’t…I don’t know how to tell him we’re not. It hurt him so badly when I broke up with him, and I know he’ll-”

Steve’s tries to smile, but it doesn’t get anywhere near his eyes. “He’d try anything to find out what he did wrong. I know. Don’t worry about it, Pepper. It’s not-” she knows him too well for him to lie about how this is hurting him so he doesn’t try. Instead, he turns his gaze away from her too searching one and says, “It was always you he wanted anyway.”

She reaches out, and for a second he thinks she will slap him. She doesn’t though, resting her hand on his wrist instead. “In his right mind, Tony would move worlds for you, Steve. He loves you. Don’t-”

Steve nods. “I know. I know he loves me. But he would rather have had you. He spent so long _earning_ my love, like he thought I would snatch it away if he were anything less than perfect. He always considered me his second chance, believing he screwed up the first time around.”

“That’s not true,” Pepper says quietly.

Steve just shrugs. “Is there anything else I need to know?”

Pepper grimaces, and Steve feels his heart sink. That can’t be good. “Do you remember what he was like three years ago?”

“Of course,” Steve says instantly. Everything about Tony is branded into his memory. Tony’s the most important thing in his life, his anchor in a world that still sometimes feels strange. However, at Pepper’s expression, he takes a moment to really think about the question.

It makes his heart sink. He wasn’t lying. He really does remember. He’s always had a good memory and the serum just improved on it. Back when the Avengers first formed, Tony was different from how he is now. He had been much more insecure back then and just as likely to lash out at a hand extended in kindness as take it, having always been taught that friendship came at too high of a price. Even now, Steve sees traces of that, but it’s all but gone when he’s in the tower. Tony was finally trusting the Avengers to have his back and had been considering them as family the way he does Colonel Rhodes or Pepper.

“Right,” he says softly. “He…Does he even want to see me?” It’s the hardest question he’s ever asked. The ring Tony gave him, the ring he made to be unbreakable because that was what he wanted, burns in his pocket where he still has it, close even though he can’t wear it.

“Yes,” Pepper says quickly. Too quickly. “Of course he does. He’s just in the workshop right now.”

It’s all Steve can do to keep from putting his head down on the table top and sobbing like a child; letting Pepper comfort him and tell him that it will be all right. Empty platitudes will help nothing. He takes a deep breath and then another. He remembers the hours and the arguments that led to getting Tony to see him as anything other than a shadow he could never live up to. The standard that nothing he did would ever reach. He thinks of the man he loves more than life itself, the man for whom he would do anything, undergo anything.

He made Tony Stark love him once; he can damn well do it again.

He doesn’t call Pepper out on her obvious lie, just sucks in a final breath and stands. “Right. Well, I’ll just go and sit in the workshop and sketch until he’s ready to speak to me.”

It’s a long established habit. Something he does now just for the pleasure of watching Tony work and being close to him even though he knows and understands that Tony has other demands on his time and can’t _actually_ spend his every moment curled up, safe and warm, against Steve and allowing Steve to play with his silky hair. But it was started back in the days when their friendship was a very tentative thing, and Steve wanted to understand what made this man, so like Howard and so unlike him at the same time, tick.

Pepper gives him a wan, tired smile. “Remember to knock. He can’t know you have his access codes. He’ll want to know why.”

A lump jumps into Steve’s throat. He prizes his unquestioned admittance to Tony’s inner sanctum more than even Tony knows, and though he knows that _his_ Tony would have never rescinded it – _his_ Tony had never done that even during the bitterest arguments – the thought of it still makes his stomach hurt, pain ripping through him.

None of that changes the fact that Pepper is right. “Yes, Ms Potts,” he agrees, feeling the divide between them ever more sharply.

He feels her turn to watch him as he crosses to the stairs.

When Steve is finally out of Pepper’s sight, he turns his gaze up to the ceiling. “JARVIS? Is Tony..?”

“He is functional, Captain. Myself and Ms Potts have done our best to keep him in one piece. He has, however, been awake for nearly thirty hours and has not had anything to eat or drink during that entire time period.”

Steve hesitates on the stairs before turning and going back the way he came. The kitchen is empty now, and Steve wastes no time fixing Tony a quick breakfast, even though it’s nowhere near breakfast time; he knows Tony loves breakfast food. Besides, it will give Tony an incentive to let him in.

*

Tony obviously doesn’t hear him over the music blaring in the workshop – “Shoot to Thrill”, a favourite of Tony’s that Steve has been subjected to many, many times – when Steve makes his way downstairs. He visibly flinches when JARVIS draws his attention to Steve’s presence, and Steve feels his heart stop. Tony is rumpled from work, his eyes wide and owlish with tiredness, a steak of grease on his temple. He is achingly beautiful and everything Steve has ever wanted, and he’s looking at Steve as though Steve is a particularly unwelcome ghost.

They freeze in tableau for a long second.

Steve can feel his face heating under the unfamiliar scrutiny, but he resolutely holds his ground. He had been looking forward to seeing Tony, to touching him, and to being able to prove to himself that he’s okay. He’s not going to give that up because of a little embarrassment.

After a long, awkward moment, he sees Tony’s lips move, and the music dies before the door slides open. “What’s up, Capsicle?”

That sends another pang through him. Tony calls everyone nicknames, and Steve more unreasonable and ridiculous ones than most, but it’s been a long time since he’s made such a casually cruel reference to Steve’s time under the ice.  Nowadays, he’s more used to gentle teasing, not this sharp defensiveness intending to wound, to hurt them before they can hurt you. He ignores it, knowing what he didn’t know the first time they did this – that the unkind sarcasm is a product of pain, not malice – and holds the tray out to Tony. “I brought you breakfast.”

Tony blinks. “Is it breakfast time?”

“Uh…no.” Steve can feel his ears heating again. This had seemed like such an obvious thing back in the kitchen. Tony loves breakfast food, and Steve had been happy to indulge him. Now, faced with this stranger who doesn’t know why he would know that, or what the memory means to him – _their first proper date,_ Steve’s _first proper date ever, and it’s 3 am. Their actual plans having been ruined by an unexpected attack of mutant animals, Tony takes him to an all-night diner. “Really, Tony? Pancakes?” “Hey, I like breakfast. And besides, I’m on a date with Captain America. It’s a whole new day. I want to start it properly, with the most important meal.”_ – it seems stupid. “JARVIS said you hadn’t eaten, so I figured it was breakfast for you.”

Tony gives him an amused smile, the expression he reserved for journalists who thought they’d said something funny and Tony, for whatever reason, wasn’t going to disabuse them of the notion. “Great. Thanks. You can leave it there.” He gestures at an empty space on one bench with the tool he’s holding.

Wordlessly, Steve puts the tray down. Tony doesn’t like being handed things. It’s been a long time since he’s refused to take something from Steve’s hands though, and the ache of being distrusted by the most important person in his life burns. There’s another long silence. “How are you feeling?” He says at last to break it.

Tony makes the same fake-amused expression. “Just peachy, Cap.”

“Right,” Steve says helplessly. He’s close enough to reach out and touch Tony, to wrap him in an embrace as he had so many times before. “You can call me Steve, you know.”

Tony’s mouth pinches. “Is that what I usually call you?”

“Yes.”

“How long?”

Steve opens his mouth. He can’t – quite – answer to the day, but he can make a good guess. Then he hesitates. “Should you be asking these questions?”

Tony turns away. “Probably not.”

Steve can’t help himself; he reaches out, putting a hand on Tony’s shoulder and relishing the familiar warmth. “Hey, I’m not…I would tell you if I could. You know that, right?”

In the line of Tony’s back and the tension in his shoulders, Steve can read what he’s thinking. _I hate being trapped here. I hate not knowing. I hate that I can sense differences but don't know what or why._ He shrugs Steve’s hand off carelessly instead of leaning in to him, drawing on the strength Steve is only too happy to share, and when he turns, his face is an indifferent mask. “Sure. And it was nice of you to stop by.”

Steve knows a dismissal when he hears one, but he ignores it. He shifts his weight and runs his eyes hungrily over Tony’s body, memorising him, searching for the smallest of wounds, the slightest imperfections.

This time it’s Tony who shifts uneasily and Steve, painfully and humiliatingly aware of what his possessive gaze must have seemed like to someone who has no context for it, he snaps his eyes back to Tony’s face.

“I- I’m sorry, Mr Stark. I shouldn’t have- I’ll just-”

“Yeah,” Tony agrees. His voice cold, hostile like it is when he’s talking with villains who have them captured and caged.

Steve flinches and can’t bring himself to look back as he leaves.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: An encounter with Amora the Enchantress leaves Tony with no memory of Steve and believing that Pepper is still his girlfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: PG-13  
> Disclaimer: Not mine unfortunately, though considering what I put them through, probably for the best. Also, a shout out to Supernatural, from which I gratuitously borrowed a massive plot device. The Supernatural fans amongst you will spot it, anyone else, don’t worry, it’s not important, I just felt I should acknowledge my lack of originality.   
> Warning/Spoilers: ANGST, amnesia and a scene which one of the characters considers infidelity (it’s NOT, but the whole thing is messed up and complicated), Tony feels.  
> Genre: angst, hurt/comfort, gen, slash, romance.  
> Beta: Whisp  
> A/N: This is not part of the First Impressions Universe, I just wrote it to give me a break from all the angst in that universe (yes, writing new Tony angst is probably not the best cure but whatever).  
> Title is owed to Gabrielle Aplin’s song of the same name.  
> Dedicated to ramsay_baggins, congratulations on your graduation, hun!

**Please Don’t Say You Love Me (‘Cause I Might Not Say It Back)**

 

Steve isn’t really sketching, more holding his pencil and pad in order to look busy and discourage people from disturbing him. Not that Tony is likely to, and Pepper is usually sensitive about these kinds of things but it makes him feel better to have something he at least appears to be doing.

He looks up sharply at the sound. The too familiar metal clang of an Iron Man suit landing beside him startles him, and he can’t quite restrain the disappointment when he sees it’s War Machine. Which is stupid. He hadn’t really expected it to be Iron Man.

Rhodes pops the face plate and gives him a tired smile. “Ms Foster and Banner finished have their interdimensional communicator thingy,” he says without preamble. “They managed to establish a connection, and Thor said he would see if he could find a cure or antidote or counter spell or whatever, but I figured you’d want to talk to him yourself.”

Steve makes an undignified noise and what Tony and Clint call ‘grabby hands.’ Rhodes laughs and tosses him a small black box, about three times the size of his cell phone, but still too small and too fragile in Steve’s large hands. He cradles it like he would an injured baby animal, afraid of crushing this tenuous link to help.

“How is he?” Rhodes asks.

Steve makes an effort to wipe the pain out of his eyes, but judging by the pity he sees in Rhodes’ face, he’s unsuccessful. “He’s fine. Alive.” He knows he’s being terse but he can’t help it.

Rhodes nods and tactfully doesn’t say any of the things that he could. Perhaps even more than Pepper, Rhodes knows just how deep the scars Howard left on Tony in relation to Captain America are. “I’ll talk to him.”

Steve mumbles his agreement. It’s like an icy fist squeezing his lungs to know it won’t be him, but he’s grateful for any help or support given to Tony. He knows the genius must hate the fact that his own mind is working against him. “How do I work this?” He asks instead of replying properly.

Rhodes moves in close, and if he fixes his attention on the communicator in his hands, Steve can almost imagine that it’s Iron Man standing behind him the way it should be. He listens to Rhodes’ smooth voice directing him, reminding him that this isn’t Tony. It’s virtually all that keeps him from leaning back against the suit like he has so many times before.

Bruce and Ms Foster deserve a present, a dozen presents. When – Steve refuses to even think if – Tony is back to himself, Steve will ask him what science equipment Bruce would like and get it for him. The communicator works.

“Tell me you have something, Thor,” Steve says into the device, completely disregarding the pleading note that’s all-too-obvious in his tone. 

“Captain,” Thor booms, voice even louder than usual courtesy of the communicator’s speakers, “I bare both good news and ill.”

Steve’s breath catches painfully in his throat, and for a long second he thinks his asthma has returned before he realises it’s simple fear. “Good news first,” he manages to gasp.

“I have received instruction and it seems as if it would not be exceedingly trying to lift a spell of this kind. I can do that much myself. We would not need the expertise of a magic user whom Friend Stark does not wish to allow such intimate access to his person.”

Steve nods foolishly, before realising Thor can’t see him. “And the bad?” he forces himself to ask.

“We need the blood of the one who bespelled him in the first place.”

Steve closes his eyes. “And no one else can help us?”

Thor sighs, a breathy rush of static, and Steve can all too easily imagine the cloud that will have crossed his face. “No. I am able to lift the spell after the patient tutorial from my mother, but it is complex magic. We would need someone extremely skilled to help us circumvent it. And,” he hesitates briefly, “my brother has refused us.”

Steve feels a wash of relief. He would not have relished crawling to Loki for help. He instantly regrets it when he thinks of how Tony must be suffering. “Amora. It was Amora who cast the spell in the first place,” he offers, as though quick co-operation now will make up for his earlier weakness.

 “Yes. But she is not on Asgard, and Heimdell tells me she is no longer on Midgard either.”

“So…then where?” Steve hears the despair cracking his voice.

There is the sound of Thor shifting uncomfortably. “Heimdell believes that she is in Hel. The realm of the dead.”

Steve gives a laugh. “Of course she is. How do we get there?”

“Captain, that is a dangerous road, and there is no guarantee we would be successful, nor that we would be even able to return to Midgard.”

The plastic of the communicator squeaks alarmingly as Steve tightens his grip, and he forces himself to relax. “I have no choice,” he says quietly. “I won’t ask you to come with me, only to help me find my own way.”

The concern is obvious in Thor’s voice. “I will accompany you; alone you would have no hope against the shades of that realm. Let me seek counsel with my mother and the Wise of Asgard. We will leave tomorrow, when I am sure of our path.”

The communicator goes dead. Thor has never really gotten the hang of the Earth custom of saying goodbye at the end of a phone conversation. Steve looks down at the now silent black box and finds himself breathing heavily. He starts when a hand is placed on his shoulder.

“I’ll come too,” Rhodes says.

“No,” Steve argues, “The Avengers-”

“The Avengers don’t need me. They’ve got the X-Men, the Fantastic Four, and SHIELD for back-up, and there’s no reason Tony can’t still be Iron Man. He remembers that at least, even if he doesn’t remember the team. _You_ need all the help you can get.”

Steve grimaces, but he can’t deny the truth of the man’s words. “Okay. Thank you.”

Rhodes smiles easily. “Tony’s like a brother to me.”

Steve nods. He knows. Winning Rhodes’ approval as Tony’s team captain, and later as his partner, had been arduous but ultimately rewarding. They look at each other for another moment.

“I should go and check on Tony,” Rhodes says eventually.

Steve nods, not trusting his voice. When the other man leaves, he looks up at the sky. “Find her for me, Heimdell,” he growls under his breath. There is an unaccustomed feeling of viciousness rising in his chest. “Find the bitch whose blood I need.”

*

Tony’s not sneaking. He’s not. This is his house and sneaking would imply he’s doing something wrong, which, again, he’s not. It’s just that he can live without Captain America – and his too soulful eyes, and that stare that made Tony’s knees go weak and certain parts of him jump to attention, even though he really hates authority figures in all forms – looming out of corners at him. He’s still not quite sure why Cap’s here, and the inability to even rack his mind for answers is making him itch deep underneath his skin.

The point is, he’s not sneaking because he has more self-respect than that. But he can’t deny he is moving quietly, not whistling or chattering to JARVIS like usual.

He sees a glint of familiar red around the corner and grins to himself. He can rarely surprise Pepper, but she makes the best squeaking noises when he does manage it. He presses himself back against the wall, one hand covering the Arc reactor so the glow won’t give him away and edges around the corner. She’s not alone and for a moment Tony’s gleeful smile widens even further. Rhodey’s here. He hasn’t seen Rhodey in months.

But as he watches, he sees Pepper lean in to Rhodey, kissing him with the passion she had denied Tony since he woke up in the hospital. Worse, he watches Rhodey return it.

He can’t tear his eyes away from the picture they make, pressed against each other like teenagers furtively hidden in the hallway. Rhodey’s hands clench around Pepper’s waist and she gives the breathy mewl that Tony had thought had been his alone.

Tony’s participated in his fair share of voyeurism in his time, but this is more cold horror than simple arousal. He can’t tear his eyes away from the pair. The same cold, all-consuming helplessness he had felt as Yinsen’s life had seeped away from underneath his fingertips fills him, crippling him. He can barely draw breath. Rhodey leans down to whisper something into Pepper’s ear, and she gives a soft giggle.

A better man would have challenged them; his best friend and his girlfriend messing around behind his back is more than can be expected to be born, but Tony holds himself back. This is all his own fault anyway. He knows better than to not expect betrayal, even from the most trustworthy of people. Had he learned _nothing_ from the whole Iron Monger debacle? Besides, Pepper’s always been too good for him; he’s been mystified about how he’d managed to keep her at his side for this long. And Rhodey is everything he had ever wished he could be. Under different circumstances he would have been happy for them; he’s never wanted anything but for these two people to be happy.

At least this means he and Pepper hadn’t broken up. He’d been not-thinking about it for days and had cravenly chosen to continue like normal because he couldn’t bear to have been stripped of everything he’d known about himself _and_ to lose Pepper too. In the darkest corners of his mind, rising up like shadows to torment him when he can’t elude sleep any longer  has been the fear that Pepper’s diffidence was because from her perspective she wasn’t…isn’t his anymore. This is actually better. Cheating on him is nothing. It’s not actually something he’s ever done, but he knows what they say about him, knows no one can expect anything better of Tony Stark: infamous playboy. Most likely Pepper thinks she’s only returning the favour, and at least this way he gets to keep her at least in some respect. It’s more than he ever could have expected.

He watches for a moment longer, watches the way Rhodey’s hands flex and tighten, possessive but not bruising. He notes the radiant happiness on her face, and assured that the people who mattered to him the most are content, Tony turns to creep away.

He has barely put any distance between them when he runs straight into Captain fucking America. Because of course, the universe likes to mock him.

The Captain grabs his arms and steadies him on his feet. “Uh…sorry.”

“No, it’s…” Tony flounders. He has no idea what the polite brush off is to this. On the other hand, it wasn’t the Captain who wasn’t looking where he was going, it was Tony. “It’s fine. Steve,” he adds deliberately.

Steve gives him a beaming smile. If he had a tail it would be wagging. “No, it was my fault, Tony.”   

“It’s fine,” Tony says again. And what is wrong with him? Where is his eloquent and brilliant banter?

Even Rogers seems to have noticed. The smile disappears, replaced by a frown that furrows his brow with lines that Tony wants to smooth away. “Are you okay?”

“I’m-” _fine_ , Tony starts to say and stops himself. He is not going to say fine again. He has a larger than average vocabulary and he is perfectly capable of utilizing it. He realises Rogers is looking at him, concerned frown deepening, and that he still hasn’t answered. “Yes, of course I’m okay,” he babbles. “Why wouldn’t I be okay? In fact, I’m better than okay. I’m amazing, superb, wunderbar.”

Rogers laughs, seemingly amused by the torrent of words rather than off put by them. “Well, all right then.”

It occurs to Tony to wonder what Rogers is doing skulking around this bit of the house anyway. He was never one inclined to explore. “Did you need something?”

“I was just looking for Pepper.”

Violently, Tony flinches and before he’s recovered himself, Rogers’ hands are on his arms, steadying him again. “Tony?”

It’s all Tony can do to keep from leaning into his strong chest, because apparently even this betrayal hasn’t taught him not to be such a fucking trusting moron. “Nothing.”

It’s not his best lie, and he can see Rogers doesn’t believe him. The soldier opens his mouth, then a cloud of hurt passes over his eyes and he says instead, “Okay. But I get…I get how losing time, losing everything you know can be difficult. If you ever want to talk…”

Tony flinches again at the sickening sincerity of the offer. He’s not about to open his heart to Captain America of all people. _Outside of that suit what are you?_

The shadow in Rogers’ eyes deepens and wow, that’s not just a kicked puppy look. That’s the look of a brutally tortured puppy left injured and abandoned in the rain. Even Tony feels guilty facing that look. Rogers’ voice lacks any judgement whatsoever though when he says, “You don’t have to. I was just…anyway. With luck you won’t need to. Thor thinks he’s found a way to reverse the spell. In the morning, he, Rhodes, and I are going to go get what he needs. Hopefully, you’ll be back to your old self in a couple of days.”

“Rhodey’s going with you?”

“Yeah.” Rogers chokes slightly, and there’s a look Tony can’t define on his face when he adds, “It’ll give you and Ms Potts some time alone.”

Tony feels sick, but he smiles, offering an easy agreement. To his disquiet, Rogers doesn’t appear fooled, looking at him carefully and obviously biting back questions. “Anyway,” says Tony. “I’m just going to-” he gestures, and it’s only when Rogers lets go of him that he realises the other man still had a grip on his arms.

“Right.”

With anyone else, Tony would have made leering remarks about the quite frankly, adorable blush painting Rogers’ cheeks and ears red. He knows exactly how Rogers will take it though, and he does know how to pick his battles, it’s just not a skill he utilises very often. So this time he doesn’t say anything, choosing instead to waggle his fingertips in goodbye and saunter towards his workshop. He can feel Rogers’ too assessing gaze with every step and finds himself wondering how much tech he’ll end up supplying to SHIELD and the Avengers to compensate for this ridiculous loss of time running about looking after him.

He doesn’t turn around.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: An encounter with Amora the Enchantress leaves Tony with no memory of Steve and believing that Pepper is still his girlfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: PG-13  
> Disclaimer: Not mine unfortunately, though considering what I put them through, probably for the best. Also, a shout out to Supernatural, from which I gratuitously borrowed a massive plot device. The Supernatural fans amongst you will spot it, anyone else, don’t worry, it’s not important, I just felt I should acknowledge my lack of originality.   
> Warning/Spoilers: ANGST, amnesia and a scene which one of the characters considers infidelity (it’s NOT, but the whole thing is messed up and complicated), Tony feels.  
> Genre: angst, hurt/comfort, gen, slash, romance.  
> Beta: Whisp  
> A/N: This is not part of the First Impressions Universe, I just wrote it to give me a break from all the angst in that universe (yes, writing new Tony angst is probably not the best cure but whatever).  
> Title is owed to Gabrielle Aplin’s song of the same name.  
> Dedicated to ramsay_baggins, congratulations on your graduation, hun!
> 
> Sorry it's been such a long time between updates. I do try and post weekly, but work has been insane this week. Hope you all enjoy :)

**Please Don’t Say You Love Me (‘Cause I Might Not Say It Back)**

 

“Ready?” Steve asks in a low tone.

Rhodey gives a short nod. He’s as ready as he’ll ever be and he can’t deny a slight excitement. This might all seem normal to the Avengers, but he’s never been to a different dimension or realm or whatever before. Besides, he’s happy to do whatever it takes to help Tony.

“All right then,” says the blond and fiddles with the device in his hands. “We’re ready, Thor. Do it.”

Rhodey looks around the courtyard in the soft pre-dawn light. There’s no chance of seeing Tony at this hour, and he had said goodbye to Pepper last night, but he can’t help himself. He’s more pleased than he can say to see her standing at one of the windows looking down at them. Rhodey offers her a smile and snaps his faceplate shut. Then there’s a strange sensation, like being pushed and pulled and spun around all at the same time, and he’s abruptly somewhere else. He stumbles, even though the ground is in the same place, as the vertigo of the changing landscape hits.

“You okay, Rhodes?” asks a gruff voice to his side.

Rhodey takes a moment to look around and to run a systems check on his suit. “Yeah. I’m fine, Captain.”

Rogers gives an absent nod, looking around the place they have found themselves. It’s all orange and black and rolling mist. Rhodey has to quell a smile at the thought of what Tony would say if he were with them. It looks a little like Mordor, only much more sinister.

A figure strides out of the mist toward them, and Rhodey has the shoulder rockets levelled at whomever it is before realising it’s only Thor. He retracts them with some embarrassment.

Thor shakes his head. “You have the correct instincts, James. This place is…” he trails off and says instead, “We are all warriors. All of us have seen death; all of us have dealt it. This is where the fallen come. Our eyes and ears cannot be trusted in this place.”

Steve blanches at that, and Rhodey pities him. He knows all about Bucky Barnes. “We don’t plan on being here long, Thor. We get Amora’s blood and we go back to Tony. That’s all.”

Tony’s name shakes Steve out of his stupor and he nods. “Rhodes is right. Tony needs us.”

“Then let us make haste.”

Thor begins to lead them through the mist. Neither Steve nor Rhodey are cowards, but they both stick close to his solid, comforting bulk. The mist seems to be a living thing, chilling them to the bone and weaving around them, clutching at their hair and at Thor’s cloak. There are whispers within it, and although Rhodey can’t fully hear them, they still drive tiny but sharp pinpricks of fear into his very soul. “Do we know where she is?” Rhodey asks after a while, just to hear some other sound.

“This realm is not large,” Thor answers. “Its expanse is part of its illusion. That is why it is inevitable that we shall see our fallen. We shall find her.”

“How much of her blood do we need?”

Steve sounds hesitant. That’s fine. If he has hang ups about killing in cold blood or harming a woman, Rhodey will be more than happy to do the deed. Tony’s an Avenger and reckless and an idiot and does dangerous shit all the time. He’s long since resigned himself to that. But for someone to fuck with his mind with such deliberate malice, to destroy the one thing that makes him who he is… Rhodey would cheerfully at this point to rip Amora’s innards out through her nose.

“No more than a single drop, Captain. This is magic and ritual, not barbarism.”

Rhodey hisses between his teeth. He can’t deny his disappointment. Both Thor and Steve turn to look at him, and he’s slightly ashamed to admit his blood thirsty tendencies, even if they _are_ in Tony’s defence, when a distraction comes in the form of another shape lumbering out of the coiling mist.

They all ready their weapons this time, but Rhodey finds his hands dropping to his sides unthinkingly as he recognises the figure. It’s one of the boys he lost on his first tour of duty. “Peterson?” he says, and his voice cracks.

Thor drops a weighty hand on his shoulder. “Ignore it.”

“But-”

“Ignore it. It is naught but a shade.”

Rhodey glares up at him. He knows he’s intimidating in the War Machine armour, but Thor doesn’t so much as flinch. “I know you’re not human but you must have _some_ compassion, Thor. I can’t just-”

“Our friend needs us. You can no longer help this man. He has passed from Midgard. You must turn your attention to the one whom you can still help.”

His words rock Rhodey to the core. “…I…Yes. You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Thor shrugs, cloak whipping about him in the wind which seems to come from all directions at once. “It is nothing. Let us continue on our path.”

They’re forced to pass closely to Peterson to continue and, up close, Rhodey sees he is still sporting the small, almost neat, bullet wound in the centre of his forehead. “I’m sorry,” he whispers to him as he passes, and is more grateful than he can express when Steve’s reassuring form materialises next to him. He’s standing a little closer than convention would usually allow, but Rhodey doesn’t complain.

“I can hear them,” Steve confides. Rhodey looks at him sharply. He wonders if the super soldier serum had given Steve enhanced hearing, if Steve knows what the not-quite-audible voices in the mist are saying. His haggard face suggests that he does, and that Rhodey is lucky he does not. “Talk to me,” he says in a low undertone. “It’ll drown them out. And it’ll give me something else to think about.”

Steve is silent for a second. “Sure. What do you want me to talk about?”

On the rare occasion Rhodey gets Steve to himself, he usually allows his inner fanboy to emerge and asks for stories about the Howling Commandoes and their fantastic tales of derring-do.  Tales of defeating Hydra and Nazis and the Red Skull, stories that the Captain has in abundance, but to ask him to recount those stories here would be unspeakably callous. “Tell me…tell me what had Tony so riled up that night. The last night he was…before Amora attacked him.”

This time Steve is silent for much longer.

“Hey, Captain,” Rhodey touches his arm gently with metal clad fingers. “If it’s private or whatever...”

“No…” Steve answers, voice almost as muted as the whispers still on the edge of Rhodey’s hearing. “No…I just…this isn’t how I imagined telling people.”

“This isn’t really how I imagined anything.”

Steve laughs, the sound unnatural in this place and he quickly chokes it off. “That night…Right before Amora…He proposed to me.”

“He…” Rhodey’s voice trails off. He whistles softly. “You said yes, right?”

Steve gives him a filthy look. “Of course I said yes.”

“I feel like I should give you the ‘break his heart and I’ll break your legs’ speech.”

“You already did that when I first asked him out.”

Rhodey nods. “And since you’re currently on a route march through Hel in order to get the blood of a witch to bring his memories back, I think I can safely say you’ll look after him.”

“With everything I am,” Steve swears softly.

Rhodey is about to reply, though he doesn’t know what he’d say. He can’t imagine losing Pepper full stop, much less minutes after she’d agreed to give her life to him. He has just opened his mouth when ahead of them, Thor suddenly stops. “She is close.”

Conversation forgotten, Steve readies his shield and Rhodey primes his weapons. Then, from both nowhere and everywhere at once, there is a high, cold laugh. “So, you have come to plead with me to break the spell.”

Steve growls. “I don’t plead. And we don’t need you, only your blood.”

There’s a beat of silence, then the mist parts, leaving a clear path over the charred ground, and Amora is suddenly in front of them, blond hair curling down her back and green robes clinging to an enviable body. Rhodey blinks, surprised. No one had told him Amora was, well, hot. She stops a few metres in front of them and spreads her arms. “Then come and take it, Captain.”

Heedless of the danger, Steve rushes in, but no matter how fast he moves she always seems to be able to skip out of his range. After a second Rhodey joins him, but even between the two of them, Amora is as elusive as the mist by which they are surrounded. At last they fall back, glaring at her, panting.

It’s Thor who speaks. “That is not Amora; it is merely a reflection of her.”

The imitation saunters up to him and runs one lily white hand down his face. “Oh, very good.”

Thor doesn’t flinch under her attentions. “You would not have appeared to us except to bargain. What is it you would have us trade?”

“You. Give yourself to me, Thor Odinson, and I shall give your companions all they would need to lift the shadow in Iron Man’s mind.”

“No,” Steve barks out. “That’s unacceptable.”

Thor nods his agreement. “I have no need to make such a bargain. Eventually we will run you to ground, Amora. Do you truly believe you will shed not a single drop of blood in combat against all of us?”

She looks over them, and smiles. “Perhaps not. But finding me will take time, time you do not have.”

She’s baiting them; she’s saying it just to frighten them. Rhodey knows that, but he still feels his breath catch in his throat.

“What do you mean?” Steve forces out. A shield made of lesser metal would have crumpled under the pressure his fingers are exerting on it.

“Your little telepath was able to halt the progress of my shadow, wasn’t he? Very clever.” She turns back to Thor. “I can see why you like them. They are so very resourceful, these Midgardians.” When Thor merely glares, she smiles again and turns back to Steve. “Unfortunately, that only worked for as long as he didn’t search for the memories he was missing.”

Steve makes a choking sound. “He knows that. He knows not to look behind the wall the Professor set up in his mind.”

“He does, doesn’t he?” Amora coos. She looks at Rhodey this time. “He was doing so well too, until he saw your little tryst in the hallway.”

“My- What?”

“The girl. She’s beautiful. I can see why you couldn’t wait. But Iron Man believes she belongs to him, does he not? After seeing the two of you together, he is racking his brain, trying at this very moment, to find out what he did wrong to drive her into your arms. When you return to Midgard, he will be no more than a drooling, helpless babe, incapable of even the smallest of tasks.”

Rhodey’s eyes widen behind the face plate when he realises what she means. Oh he’s stupid, so very, very stupid. Steve spares him a glance that is filled with more betrayal than condemnation and it makes him feel like pond scum. “Me,” Rhodey offers and three pairs of eyes snap to him. “You can have me.” He doesn’t allow his voice to tremble.

Amora looks honestly bewildered. “Why would I want _you_? What use would I have for you?”

Before he can answer, Steve is talking over her. “No.”

“But I…this is my fault, Captain.”

Steve shakes his head, giving him a gentle smile. “It could have just as easily been any one of us. You know how Tony hates being kept in the dark. He was going to try and get through the wall eventually, regardless of the danger.”

“Not that this isn’t fascinating,” Amora snaps at them, “but could we get on? What is your answer, Thor?”

Thor doesn’t answer, looking instead to Steve, and Rhodey sees the Captain swallow and knows beyond any doubt that if the Enchantress had asked for him, he would have already agreed. “No,” Steve says again, and he raises his head to meet her eyes steadily, voice strong and sure, but face agonised. “I will not trade one of my people for another. We will find you, Amora, and your punishment will only be greater if Tony is damaged.”

She laughs, bright and cruel and sure of herself. “Then come and find me, Captain. If you are quick, I may even let you see Iron Man one last time.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: An encounter with Amora the Enchantress leaves Tony with no memory of Steve and believing that Pepper is still his girlfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: PG-13  
> Disclaimer: Not mine unfortunately, though considering what I put them through, probably for the best. Also, a shout out to Supernatural, from which I gratuitously borrowed a massive plot device. The Supernatural fans amongst you will spot it, anyone else, don’t worry, it’s not important, I just felt I should acknowledge my lack of originality.   
> Warning/Spoilers: ANGST, amnesia and a scene which one of the characters considers infidelity (it’s NOT, but the whole thing is messed up and complicated), Tony feels.  
> Genre: angst, hurt/comfort, gen, slash, romance.  
> Beta: Whisp  
> A/N: This is not part of the First Impressions Universe, I just wrote it to give me a break from all the angst in that universe (yes, writing new Tony angst is probably not the best cure but whatever).  
> Title is owed to Gabrielle Aplin’s song of the same name.  
> Dedicated to ramsay_baggins, congratulations on your graduation, hun!

**Please Don’t Say You Love Me (‘Cause I Might Not Say It Back)**

Tony can feel Pepper watching him, feel it like an itch at the base of his skull. He doesn’t look up, feigning absorption in the whatever kitchen appliance it was that he’d stripped open. It doesn’t matter; he’s got wires and fiddly bits of metal spread out in front of him. The point is that he _looks_ busy with something all important. It gives him something to do other than throw himself at her feet and beg her that if she’s going to leave him – and he would sympathise if she is, he really would – can she please, please, _please_ not take Rhodey with her.

She’s still there. Usually, if she doesn’t have anything to say, Pepper will enter the workshop, check that he’s not actually _on_ fire or dead from caffeine overdose, and leave again. When she does have something to say, she seems to think that’s more important than anything he might be doing and interrupts. This staring thing is new.

He tries to keep himself from reacting, but can’t help it when one hand spasms slightly and sends a heap of wires to the floor.

“Tony,” Pepper says softly and he jumps with surprise, even though he knew she was there.

He pastes on the most manic expression he can find. A fake media smile won’t fool her for long, and letting her know he’s upset is unthinkable. Manic might make her think he’s hopped up on engineering, coffee and scotch, and make her leave him alone until he feels like being, as she puts it, reasonable. “Pepper. Peppity, Pep-Pep. How are you? Are you busy? Did you want something? You can have anything you want, but I can’t possibly leave this now because it’s at a critical stage. I’d hate to be responsible for detonating a bomb which would ignite the atmosphere of the Earth.”

Pepper blinks at him. “Critical?”

“Super extremely all-consumingly critical.”

“Huh. JARVIS seems to think you’re just pulling apart a blender and reforming it in increasingly ingenious ways.”

Tony looks at the heap of scrap in front of him. Blender? Yeah, now that she’s said it he can see it. “JARVIS is a liar and a traitor and apparently has a coding glitch that I should start fixing.”

She puts a hand to his cheek and he flinches. Pepper draws back like she’s been burned. “JARVIS also said you were suffering from headaches and nosebleeds.”

Tony shrugs and moves away from her, stooping to pick up the wires littering the floor. “Like I said, liar, traitor, glitching.”

“Tony, you’re not trying to get through Charles’ wall are you?”

Tony looks at her sharply. “Why would you care if I am?” he spits, hands full of wires.

Pepper looks surprised and hurt. Her hands fly to her mid-section as if he’s causing her physical pain. “I…Why would you even say that? Of course I care what happens to you.”

He forces the smile back onto his face. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just-” he gestures and realises he’s shaking.

Pepper edges forward looking uncertain, like he’s some kind of frightened creature that will flee if she gets too close. “What’s happened, Tony? Why would you say that?”

He stays silent, but Pepper has never been swayed by his, admittedly rare, silent treatments.

“Does it have something to do with why a delivery truck, with what appears to be every single one of this season’s Prada bags, turned up for me?”

Tony winces. That had probably been a mistake, but in his defence, he’d panicked. “I’m fine,” he says by rote, having forgotten what the question was.

Pepper takes a long, steadying breath. “I understand this is hard for you, Tony. It’s hard for all of us, but Steve and Thor and Rhodey will be back soon with what you need, and then everything will be fine. They’ll fix you.”

“Maybe I don’t need to be fixed,” he mutters petulantly.

“Oh, Tony, you know that isn’t what I meant. You know I think you’re fine the way you are, but do you _really_ want to be wandering around with a big hole in your memory forever?”

“Don’t wanna be rescued by Captain America,” Tony sulks. The pain is pounding behind his eyes again. He’s not trying to knock down Xavier’s wall; he really isn’t. Despite what everyone apparently thinks of him, Tony does have _some_ survival instincts. The trouble is that Tony’s a fixer, be it an inconvenient law of physics, the creation of tech, or solutions to problems like this. Tony’s brain is simply incapable of shutting down and will instead turn the problem over and over, examining it from every angle, considering every variable until he has a solution. The trouble with this is, that he has no idea what the variables might be. Obviously he did something, probably something to both Pepper _and_ Rhodey, because it might be stupid and childish and naïve, but he refuses to believe that they’d do this to him without just cause.

He just doesn’t know what that something was.

Pepper looks at him with impatient fondness. Usually, that look warms him, but today it just leaves him feeling scooped out and hollow. Maybe she gives Rhodey that look, that look which had always been Tony’s. “Then don’t think of it as  Steve rescuing you. You don’t mind being bailed out by Rhodey, right? It’s him you usually call for bail money.”

Maybe that’s it? Maybe Pepper is jealous and Rhodey is pissed off. It’s been ages since he’s been arrested but…or at least, it’s been ages since he last remembers being arrested. Maybe he was recently. It isn’t beyond the scope of possibility. “I can call you next time,” he promises and hears with self-loathing the pleading desperation in his voice.

The look on Pepper’s face intensifies and, heedless now of the fact that he might flee, she comes towards him, heels clicking with every step. “Tony, what’s _wrong_?”

“I…” he’s horrible at apologies, but he might as well try. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” she repeats, a little incredulous. “You never say sorry. Oh God! What have you done?”

“I haven’t…I mean, I don’t know. But I’m sorry for it, whatever it was.” The words sound familiar, and his stomach rolls when he realises he’d said virtually this exact thing before when he was trying to get Pepper to tell him why she was refusing his kisses. His heart jumps into his throat as he remembers his next words. _I’m not being the clingy, handsy ex now, right?”_ And it suddenly all makes perfect sense. Pepper isn’t cheating on him and he’s the most idiotic genius to ever walk the planet to have believed that she would. Whatever he did, it was so bad that Pepper _left him_.

Some of that must have shown on his face, and he reels back. Pepper catches him and she’s not strong enough to hold his weight, but she’s always been a grounding presence, and her hands on him, her perfume surrounding him, give him the strength to find his feet. He gapes at her, wide eyed, every defence stripped completely away. “You broke up with me.”

Pepper startles backwards, but doesn’t let him go. “You remember that? But the wall..?”

It’s all the confirmation he needs. A wounded, ruined cry pushes up out of his chest. “Damn it. You were…were…you are _everything_ to me. What did I do to mess it up?”

“Tony…” there are tears shining in Pepper’s eyes too now, and he suddenly realises he’s doing what he’d always hated people doing to him. When it was over, it was over.

He drags a hand over his eyes, forces himself to straighten and says in a voice that’s too brittle, but at least calm, “My apologies, Ms Potts.”

She looks, if possible, even more shocked. “Tony, Tony… _No…_ ”

And looking at her, he has to know. He has to know now. He can’t wait for Rogers and his stupid magical potion that might not even work. He has to know what he did to cost him the only two people he’d ever cared about. It doesn’t matter what it costs him as long as he isn’t left wondering like this anymore. This is torture.

Tony has an eidetic memory, and he has no problem pulling up every memory he has of Pepper, carefully itemised and ordered. When he thinks of her joking about the twelve percent of a moment she was having, his head starts pounding. At the thought of her whispering promises into his ear for when his homework was finished, he feels a tickling itch over his top lip and a sharp blow to the knee as he stumbles again, but this time falls completely.

Dimly, he’s aware of Pepper screaming his name and something hard and cool – concrete – under his head. His mouth is filled with the metallic taste of the blood dripping from his nose, and his head feels like it’s on the brink of exploding. He ignores it. He’s good at ignoring pain, at pushing through it – _give us what we want, Mr Stark_ _and lungs that feel like they’re on fire_.

He ignores it. He remembers it and therefore it’s not relevant. The wall in his mind is smooth black stone. All the force he can muster does nothing but slide along the outside of it, triggering Xavier’s carefully placed defences. If he doesn’t find a way through soon, he’s going to black out and this will all be for nothing.

Tony tries to think logically through the crippling pain and nauseating taste of his own blood. If he can’t go through the wall and can’t get around it, then he needs to go over or under. He tries again to focus on Pepper, the most important thing in his life. If there are any ties connecting the him now to the him she expects him to be, they must originate with her. All that does is make the pain increase. As blackness encroaches, Tony scrabbles frantically for something, anything, else.

_Think, you’re a genius. No one took that away from you. What will get through the wall?_

_Something strong enough._

_Pepper._

_Isn’t working. Something else. What do we know?_

_Pepper broke up with me._

_Pepper broke up with me._

_I’m alone._

_Always alone._

_Nothing except…_

_Nothing_

_But…_

_No Pepper…_

Tony makes one final, desperate leap, one he knows is stupid even as he does it. Tony’s never been able to isolate himself completely, no matter how many times he tells himself that it’s the only sensible course of action. If he’s not tied to Pepper…

He forces himself to think about all the times in the past week he’s turned around, seemingly by habit, to talk to someone about his work. It hadn’t made sense, because Tony’s never had a lab partner. He’s always worked alone. And he doesn’t need to turn to talk to JARVIS, doesn’t need to gesture to show him anything. He just rambles. No, this had definitely been something else. Something else he’s determinedly not thought about.

He thinks about the fact that he’d always been good at hiding his emotions, but this week he’s seemed better somehow. Even to himself. He hasn’t had anyone who habitually hides their feelings to mimic since dad died. And, he discovered completely by chance, he’s become really good at tossing trash into the garbage can from across the room. It’s not that he can’t master any skill when he puts his mind to it, but why on earth would he have learned to do that? And where did he pick up this ridiculous craving for Poptarts?

He thinks, fleetingly, of the heat in Rogers’ eyes every time he so much as glanced at Tony, and the answering sparks that seemed to dance under Tony’s skin no matter how much he tried to stop them because he was _taken_. Because apparently, he’s not.

There’s a sound like a roll of thunder and the screech of metal and the tinkling crash that something precious and expensive makes as it hits the floor. The wall splits down the middle.

Instantly, Tony’s engulfed in blackness, whether it be the shadow they kept talking about, or his own impending unconsciousness, he isn’t sure. The agony ramps up, and this time he doesn’t just feel the itch of the trickle of blood, but a fully-fledged wet gush as something in his nose definitely bursts. He hears himself scream.

And then he must be dreaming because there are warm hands, huge and strong enough to lift him, and a frantic voice calling his name.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: An encounter with Amora the Enchantress leaves Tony with no memory of Steve and believing that Pepper is still his girlfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: PG-13  
> Disclaimer: Not mine unfortunately, though considering what I put them through, probably for the best. Also, a shout out to Supernatural, from which I gratuitously borrowed a massive plot device. The Supernatural fans amongst you will spot it, anyone else, don’t worry, it’s not important, I just felt I should acknowledge my lack of originality.   
> Warning/Spoilers: ANGST, amnesia and a scene which one of the characters considers infidelity (it’s NOT, but the whole thing is messed up and complicated), Tony feels.  
> Genre: angst, hurt/comfort, gen, slash, romance.  
> Beta: Whisp  
> A/N: This is not part of the First Impressions Universe, I just wrote it to give me a break from all the angst in that universe (yes, writing new Tony angst is probably not the best cure but whatever).  
> Title is owed to Gabrielle Aplin’s song of the same name.  
> Dedicated to ramsay_baggins, congratulations on your graduation, and I hope your first day of work went well!

**Please Don’t Say You Love Me (‘Cause I Might Not Say It Back)**

He’s still bloody and bruised from the battle, but Steve has no intention of leaving Tony’s side until he knows how he is. Finding Amora had taken time, too much time, and Steve’s pretty sure they wouldn’t have found her at all, if the girl Thor had introduced only as the Lady Sif – Steve wasn’t asking, he really wasn’t, but in his opinion, Jane had some serious competition there – hadn’t turned up dragging Amora by the hair and muttering about sending a group of men to do a woman’s job.

Still, they’d almost been too late. And that was rather optimistically assuming they _hadn’t_ been.

Steve has faced down dozens of supervillains, seen the worst monsters that spurned scientists could breed, gone toe-to-toe with the Hulk, and been on a journey through the Land of the Dead, but he’s never seen anything as terrifying as Tony curled and screaming on the floor of his own workshop, blood literally gushing from his eyes, ears and nose. All he’d been able to do had been to gather the smaller man closer and force himself not to attack Thor when the god had ordered him to hold Tony’s limbs still before pinching his nose to force the concoction he assured Steve would help, down the genius’ throat.

Tony had stopped breathing twice.

He still hasn’t woken up. Steve wonders what the hell he’ll do if he doesn’t. Even the thought leaves a yawning pit of uncomprehending fear in his stomach, like he’s in a plane falling out of the sky and headed for the ice all over again, but worse, because this time there’s no calming voice to keep him steady.

That last part is probably his fault. Between them, Thor and Pepper had gotten the others here, but Steve had, in the politest way he could muster at the moment, chucked each and every one of them out of the room. It’s not that he doesn’t think they have any right to Tony; he knows they all care for him. But if Tony’s never going to recover, or even just never going to remember what they’d shared, Steve would prefer to find that out in private.

At this point he’d accept never going to remember. He’d accept the arduous task of wooing Tony all over again, even though the thought of Tony looking at him with the distrust and uncertainty he used to view him with feels like acid to the heart. He’d accept _anything_ if Tony would just open his eyes.

The man in the bed gives another soft murmur. He’s been making them for a couple of hours now, and though Steve had first thought they were a prelude to Tony awakening, he’s since lost hope. He still leans over the figure, unnaturally small in a way Tony should never be, and checks compulsively for signs of distress. Tony’s eyelashes flicker and Steve is instantly fixated on the movement.

But this time…this time, Tony’s dark eyes crack open and Steve gets the first glimpse he’s had in days of the familiar brown. Tony’s eyes are fuzzy with confusion and he’s obviously still out of it, because he doesn’t jerk up, or startle back at Steve’s too close face, simply blinks slowly. It gives Steve time to pull back to an acceptable distance.

He watches, hardly daring to breathe as Tony slowly shakes off the fog of sleep. His eyes are bloodshot, but they are, at least, not empty, and Steve thanks every god who cares to listen.

“Tony?” he barely whispers.

Tony turns towards him, and for a second there is no recognition. Steve feels his heart constrict painfully, then Tony gives him a small, if sleepy, smile. “Steve.” He looks around blankly. “Not a hospital.”

Tony’s voice is dry, shaking so much in his haste that he almost knocks over the cup, Steve fumbles for the ice chips the others had fastidiously kept ready for this exact moment. “No,” he agrees, voice still quiet, not ready yet to break the peace of the room. “You’re in your bedroom at the house in Italy.” He offers Tony an ice chip.

Tony sucks on it thoughtfully. “Italy. That was romantic of me.”

Steve nods. “It was. It was also a gift for Pepper.” It’s soothing to be able to lapse back into their familiar banter. It’s also a test.

Tony chokes, “Pepper? Not that I don’t love Pepper, but- Is Rhodey pissed with me?”

Normally, Steve would make him wonder a little longer, but this time he doesn’t have the heart. “No. You weren’t yourself. He understands.”

Tony takes Steve’s hands and squeezes it tightly. “I…I didn’t dream- You are my boyfriend?”

Steve blinks, taken aback, but he can’t stand that uncertain, confused look in Tony’s eyes, not masked at all by the teasing tone he’s trying so hard for. He leans in and brushes a kiss across his temple. “You’re mine,” he reassures quietly, “And I understand too. No one is mad at you. I think Clint may even have managed a few funny pictures for blackmail later.”

“All right then,” Tony looks reassured and settled. He motions for another piece of ice, and when he’s finished with that, he says, “So what happened?”

“What do you remember?”

“Uh…it’s kind of hazy. I remember defeating Amora and planning to go out for dinner with you and Pepper and Rhodey and…and then nothing which…for fuck’s sake. We couldn’t have gotten attacked any other night? I had plans for that dinner.”

Steve barely restrains his smile. “I’m sure you did.”

“What? What’s up with that look? Why are you smirking at me? Smug is not a good look on you, Captain.” He pokes Steve hard in the chest.

Steve hesitates slightly. He knows that what had happened after that dinner was as important to Tony as it was to him, and he doesn’t want to take that away from him. But he also wants to give Tony what he had had in that moment, and beneath the hazy exhaustion there is stress and fear and pain. When he finds out exactly _what_ Amora did to him, Tony is going to become brittle and hard edged and hide in his workshop until he thinks everyone will have forgotten about it, because he’ll hate that he was seen like that. “You…uh. We did actually make it to dinner.”

“We did?”

Steve watches Tony’s eyes flick to his bare hand, and he swallows before looking away. “Right. Steve, look. It’s cool if you don’t want to, we can just carry on like we have been. I don’t need-”

“No,” Steve says, and rushes on before the devastated look on Tony’s face can really take root. “No. I said yes.” He fishes in his pocket and pulls out his wallet, shaking the ring free and gladly, almost greedily, pulling it back onto his finger. “But since you don’t remember, I get to give you this.” He opens his hand, showing the other item he’d pulled free of his pocket. It’s a small black ring box identical to the one Tony had had for him. “Tony Stark,” he says solemnly, but with eyes sparkling with genuine happiness as he slides easily from the seat he’s made his home for the past few days, and onto one knee. “Will you do me the honour of becoming my lawfully wedded husband?”

“Will I..? This whole amnesia thing I have going on, Steve…It wasn’t a plot on your part in order to propose to _me_ so you wouldn’t be the girl?”

Steve blinks. “Really? That’s what you say to a proposal?” He relents slightly at the look on Tony’s face. “No, it wasn’t. I’m happy to be your girl.”

Tony raises an eyebrow, “That…opens up so many interesting possibilities,” he drawls.

“Tony, I’m on one knee here. An answer?”

“Oh…Yes. Yes. Since I proposed to you first, I didn’t think I would actually have to say it.”

Steve catches his hand as it reaches for the box and pulls it to his lips, dragging a kiss over the knuckles, scraped from too many accidents in the workshop, before slipping the ring on himself.

They stare at each other. Possibly for the first time ever, Steve isn’t riveted by Tony’s eyes. He’s much more interested in the slender silver band announcing that he’s _Steve’s_. Forever. It’s all he can do to keep from climbing into the bed with Tony and marking him all over.  Only the remembrance of the fearful expressions the others had worn when they’d seen Tony, pale and small and barely breathing, stops him. It would be unfair to make them wait any longer to find out that he’s okay. “You…you ready to see the others?”

“Others?”

“The Avengers. Pepper. Rhodey. Everyone’s here.”

Tony blinks. “I was injured badly enough to merit a visit from Rhodey? And you and Pepper didn’t put me in a hospital?”

“You aren’t really…there was nothing they could do.” Steve can hear the broken, frightened note in his own voice.

So, apparently, can Tony, who just reaches out wordlessly, wrapping his own strong hand around Steve’s, rings clinking against one another. “I’m fine,” he promises. “I don’t know what happened, and I need you to tell me later, but I’m fine now.”

Steve swallows the bile and fear, and nods. His fingers tighten on Tony’s until the other man winces. Only then does he pull back with a hoarse apology.

Tony’s eyes are filled with compassion. “I’m fine,” he says again. It would have been a lot more convincing if he didn’t _always_ say it. Steve flounders and doesn’t know how to express that, but Tony always knows how to fill silences. “So, the others?”

Steve nods and heads for the door. They’re all crowded outside it, virtually pressed against the wood.

“Oh, thank fucking god.” Clint snarks and darts under Steve’s arm to get into the room.

“He’s fine,” Steve says, relief at the statement making him briefly lightheaded. “He’s fine. Only lost a couple of hours. And…well…the last week and a half. If you’d check him over, Bruce…”

“Of course,” Bruce smiles.

Tony shouts something about Steve not having the right to boss him from the bed, and there’s laughter. The others press into the room alongside Clint, except Natasha who stays right where she is, looking at Steve’s hand. “New jewellery, Captain?”

Steve flushes and gives a shy smile, pulling his hand in to his chest. “Do you like it?”

She regards him for a long second and then smiles, a sweeter expression than he usually sees on her face. “I’m very happy for both of you.”

“Steve,” comes Tony’s imperious voice from the centre of a knot of Avengers. “Steve, Clint is being mean to me. Make him stop.”

Steve pushes his way through. “And what did you say to Clint first?”

Tony gives him an offended glare. “I gave you a ring. You have to be on my side.”

“You gave Cap a ring?” For a moment Clint is confused, then the eyes for which he is named zoom in on the glittering band adorning Steve’s finger.

He whistles long and low. “Wow, Stark. You bagged Captain America.”

“I know,” Tony says gleefully. “That means I win.”

“Win what?” Clint wants to know, scepticism in his tone.

“Win _everything_!”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“Yeah? Name _one other person_ with a significant other that’s as awesome and unlikely a catch as Captain America?”

“’Tasha’s sleeping with the Director,” Clint responds glibly.

Steve can’t keep from swivelling to stare at Natasha who is scowling from the door. “I most certainly am not.”

Clint grins unrepentantly, “Oh well, at least now I know for sure.”

Natasha, somewhat surprisingly, sticks her tongue out at him.

“And now for the real question,” Tony says loudly, clearly not appreciating not being the centre of attention in his own sick room.

“Which is?” Bruce asks in a long suffering way.

“Who will be my best man.” Tony leans back against the pillows he’s reclining on like a sultan. He smiles around the Avengers who are now all side eying one another shiftily. “Let the games begin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another shout out to Whisp who was kind enough to beta this for me and did so extremely quickly. Without her, this would be far more of a mess. All remaining mistakes are mine.


End file.
